


Touch

by CaffeinatedBunny



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: 5 +1, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BDSM, Boba see's Din first, Dom/sub, Fascinated Boba Fett, Fennec Shand and Boba Fett friendship, Fighting is flirting in Boba's mind, Frustrated Boba Fett, M/M, Masturbation, Obsessive Boba Fett, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Season/Series 01, Season/Series 02, Shibari, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, slow simmer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28160220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffeinatedBunny/pseuds/CaffeinatedBunny
Summary: He catches sight of the gleam of armour first, then the grace of the other Mandalorian catches his eye in Mos Eisley and Boba Fett can't help the curiosity that makes him choose to follow the first time. By the second time he sees the other man, the fascination and attraction settled deep in his bones and he's helpless but to follow and hunt the pretty silver warrior down it doesn't help that the other Mandalorian also has his armour.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Others (non-sexual), Din Djarin/Boba Fett
Comments: 116
Kudos: 520





	1. Phantom Touch

**Author's Note:**

> So this started off as nothing more than a Porny one shot with a very specific image/plot that evolved into a 5 +1 because Boba was thirsty; So I hope you enjoy it!

Touch  
I.

Boba can remember the first time he caught sight of the other Mandalorian, the light of Tatooine’s twin suns glinting off his unpainted armour; be he walked with a grace that drew the eye beyond the gleam of the sacred metal. He must have been forced to land for repairs because no one came to Tatooine unless they really needed to. Boba carefully followed the other man through Mos Eisley from the mechanic shop he left and to a catina. Like everything else on Tatooine it was nearly empty for being this early in the day, the fact that the other Mandalorian approached the droid server wondering after work wasn’t that much of a surprise. What was a surprise was the other man’s insistence that he wasn’t with the guild. 

He could nearly feel the other man’s frustration with the situation when something pulled his attention, Boba doesn’t risk catching the other man's attention by walking in after him. No, he sticks to the shadows near the doorway. He misses the start of an obvious deal, doesn’t know their bounty or the baby-faced hunter’s name but catches the tail end of the negotiation as they stand in the darkness of the Cantina. Boba couldn’t tell if the Mandalorian was naive, just expected everyone to have the same integrity as himself or the worst option so negligent of thinking about his own safety, but he wouldn’t have trusted the kid from the moment he opened his mouth. 

He follows after the Mandalorian, back to the mechanic’s shop and so finds a spot in the shadows to wait; he knows he has more important things to do like finding his lost armour for one and yet he couldn’t shake the curiosity about this man. He doesn’t care about who they are hunting, more curious about the Mandalorian’s skill in the hunt and so stays in the shadows till the baby-faced hunter arrives at the mechanics with two speeders as ordered. 

What really catches his attention though is the little creature that the Mandalorian takes a moment to check on while it’s being held by the mechanic. It was a quick glance of a caretaker and yet Boba couldn’t figure out if it was a foundling of the Mandalorians or the woman who held it. His instincts told him the other mans and yet the tiny mechanic seemed to be guarding the little one the way she held it close and eyed the two men outside her shop.

\--

The desert was quiet as night started to settle over them and Boba settled down to watch the two men. The Mandalorian was resting with his back against the speeder bike while the boy was wasting his energy by playing with his blaster. The boy was so green it radiated off him, chomping at the bit for the adrenaline rush of the hunt; didn’t have the patience of a hunter like the Mandalorian laying behind him had. 

It was amusing to watch the boy play with his gun and ‘hold’ up the other Mandalorian, even more, amusing to see the kid jump when the other man speaks up; asking him if he was done. It was one aspect of the desert that Boba appreciated, the way voices carried on the still air, and he had made sure to camp close enough that he could see with his binocs but hidden in the shadow of the dunes. 

He hears them gather their things, hears the plan being whispered to impatient ears; waits patiently till the speeder bikes head off and the pop of flashes start illuminating the night before he moves. Boba allows himself to watch from the binocs as the two hunters race over the sands; as their prey shoots down at them trying to reach them but fails. He can’t help the frown as the Hunter chooses to use himself as bait; as he’s shot off his speeder gracefully rolling to his feet to draw the aim of a sniper rifle. An MK-modified rifle judging by the distance it was able to reach, but with how close they were Boba isn’t sure how beskar could hold up against those types of bolts. 

From the distance and height the binocs are useless, he wouldn’t be able to see much more than a blob of heat signatures if he’s lucky so he waits till movement pulls his attention to the side of the sheer cliff wall. He watches as they get their prey down off the ledge of rocks to where the one speeder bike waited, a small back and forth happens between the man who had captured his interest and the wannabe hunter before the Mandalorian heads off more than likely to gather the dewback their prey had used as a lure to take down any approaching bounty hunter. 

Even laden down by his beskar’gam he was graceful but what really caught Boba’s eye was the smooth roll of the other man’s hips as he walked over shifting sand. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s felt this strong of an attraction, before he lost his armour he had flirted easily with anyone who caught his eye. Since he managed to get free of the Sarlacc pit, he had felt barely anything towards anyone and yet this stranger had captured his eye from the moment he had walked past where he had been hidden in the shadows. Perhaps it was the lure of beskar, it has been a very long time since he has seen a Mandalorian especially here on Tatooine.

The memory of the graceful and assured movements of the other man, the small glimpse of a wrist barely hidden by a glove with a frayed hem. He has seen so much more skin than that, has touched a multitude of lovers and enjoyed their skin against his own and yet Boba knows how vulnerable that little glimpse of flesh is for one such as the other man. He can’t help the groan that falls from him as he leans back while continuing to watch the other Mandalorian walk away till he’s too far into the dunes to see. Tilting his head back Boba allows himself to fall into a fantasy of more, of possibilities, of happenstance -- a fantasy of want.

The fantasy evolves quickly to him slowly divesting the other man of that gleaming armour that was so eye-catching to reveal the skin beneath. Heat licks at him as the idea of getting to see and touch skin that hasn’t been seen by the sun in who knows how long settles in his head. He licks at his lips as he slouches deeper into his robes that he had settled around himself, closing his eyes he sinks into the fantasy; lets it wrap around him till he can nearly feel the smooth skin beneath his fingers. Boba bets that the other man is sleek under the bulk of the armour, muscles tight and well defined; he doesn’t let himself focus too much on features, more the image of the fluid movements the other man would have rocking against him. 

Growling under his breath he moves quickly to take off the first glove only to bite at the fingers of his one glove to pull it off while he reaches down with his now bare hand to free his hard cock from the confines of his pants. Groaning as the cool night air hits the warmth of his skin. Hissing as the callous rough skin of his palm wraps around his length, he had nothing on hand to help ease the stroke of skin against skin. So he let the leather of his glove drop from his mouth so he could spit into his palm; not the slick he’d prefer but it would do in a bind. 

He drags his palm up his length from the base to tip, encircling the swollen head and gathering up the bead of pre-come to help ease the stroke of his hand. Boba wonders what the other Mandalorian’s hands would look like wrapped around his cock, he couldn’t imagine them being overly small; no he bets they would be long-fingered and deft in their movements -- but would they be hesitant on his shaft or knowing? The possibilities tickle him in the way he hadn’t expected to be as much of a turn on as they were, it has him slipping his free hand up his top to grope at his own chest. 

Would the other man’s hands be lightly or heavily calloused, would he be loud or quiet if Boba ever got him pinned under him and taking his cock so willingly. He picks up the speed as he strokes his length, adding a twist of the wrist as he reaches the head; swirling his fingers around swollen glands, gathering more of his precome as he leaks so heavily. It had been far too long since he'd enjoyed any form of pleasure, simply for pleasure's sake; he’s used it to relieve tension and ease boredom in the past few years. 

Groaning quietly he relaxes into his own touch and his contemplation of the other man, his fascination fueling the fantasy of what could be in some sense. He lets his legs spread wide while digging the heels of his boots into the heavy sand gaining some leverage to thrust into his hand as the fingers of his other hand tweaks and pinches at one of his nipples. The sharp sting of it has him hissing out in pleasure, the cool air of the desert felt like a caress on his overheating skin. Boba knows he’s not going to last long, not this time he’s too on edge and over-sensitive and the touch feels so good. 

The rasp of his hand over his cock, the barely-there slick sound from his own pre-come and saliva; he wonders what the other man would look like on his knees for him, how well he’d take his cock. What sounds the man would make if he were to wrap his hand around his throat, what his pulse would feel like under his thumb. Would he tremble and would his probably pretty cock leak for him if he squeezed? Boba pants with the images and thoughts flicking through his mind as he works his hand faster, giving the head a squeeze at the height of his stroke tugging at it gently on the way down back to his base. 

Would he whine high and desperate when he came or would it be a long drawn out groan of appreciation? Or would he bite at his bottom lip till Boba had to coax the sounds out of him, not letting him come till he whined his name to be allowed his pleasure. 

The thought and image in his head tips him over the edge with a low groan of his own as he strips his cock with quick hard strokes. He shakes with the orgasm while panting in the aftermath of his pleasure, Boba, thrusts his cock through his come soaked hand wringing the last few pulses of pleasure from himself with a hiss. Falling back onto his robe with a different type of pleasure as all his tension leaves him, he gives himself a moment to catch his breath. 

Lifting his come-covered hand to his mouth he swipes his tongue over his mess, the salty-bitter taste sits thick in his mouth but it has him wondering what the other Mandalorian would taste like. 

Letting out a sigh once his hand was cleaned up he carefully tucks his cock back into his pants and does them up before pulling his cloak tight around him to ward off the chill starting to hit him. It’s not his first night roughing it in the desert far from it, and so he shifts into the give of the sand, conforming it to him before settling in for the night. Morning would come soon enough, along with the other Mandalorian and the herdbeast, so no point in standing guard; the baby-faced hunter had their prey sound and subdued. 

\--

Boba lets himself drift off into a light doze, the weight of his cloak keeping him warm as the temperature drops; waking as the first rays of the twin sun start to sneak past the horizon. Sighing he rolls his shoulders, giving his neck a crack; he’s taking a sip from his waterskin when the sharp crack of a blaster splits the air. It has him reaching for his binocs and catching sight of the baby-faced hunter speed away on the speed bike leaving the crumpled body of their target behind him. 

He wondered what intel the target had that the thought of double-crossing and taking on a Mandalorian was an easy thing; must really be green as green can be. Boba stays where he’s at; watches as the Mandalorian arrives back on dewback only to head back the way he came. He wants to follow to see the outcome of the betrayal and yet he was curious to see who they had hunted. He wasn’t sure if the Mandalorian would come back for the body, after all some bounties paid half for the body. 

By nightfall, Boba realizes that the Mandalorian isn’t coming back; the bounty must have been an alive only one. Tsk’ing Boba stands and stretches out his stiff muscles, it seemed like his bet didn’t pay out; there must have been more to the betrayal than he thought. He takes his time walking over the loose sands till it stone clicks under boots, his strides ease as he approaches the body. Crouching down he reaches out to turn the woman’s face; surprise has him going still, never would he have thought that Fennec Shand would be taken so easily. Perhaps a double-cross between the baby-faced hunter and Shand as well, hmm that certainly made things interesting. 

Shifting Boba reaches down for a communicator, having made up his mind it was easy enough to call those that worked for him on Tatooine to him. Perhaps he would see the Mandalorian again here on Tatooine or perhaps he will have to seek him out, but until he found his armour Boba would stay on this thrice-cursed dust ball.


	2. Seek to bruise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A giant massive thank you to: [Wickedlydevious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedlydevious/pseuds/wickedlydevious) for letting me bounce all these plots and ideas off you. I can not express to you how much that means to me or helps me in the writing, though I'm sure you can guess. Thank you so so much darling! <3 
> 
> Honestly I probably wouldn't be writing anything for Mando if we hadn't screamed at each other about it.

II.

Boba was in Mos Eisley on business once more when he spots the Mandalorian once again outside the same shop as the first time he had followed him, and just like last time he was packing up a speeder bike but it seems that he was taking the same green child with him. So he had been right then the child had been his, the possible bounty he had stolen from the thieves guild. Not that any Mandalorian would fault the other man for choosing the Creed over something as simple as the bounty hunter guild code. Sadly this time around he didn’t have the ability to follow him directly, no he’ll talk to the mechanic later and see if she’d tell him where the Mandalorian was heading, perhaps he’d be able to actually get close enough to speak to him this time. 

It’s dark by the time his business is finished, the city turning cool as the suns are quick to set and he’s free to do as he pleases. So he leaves Fennec to watch his ship, her disbelief and amusement an interesting brand across his cloak covered shoulders. In the wake of healing her to the best of his abilities, in her pledge of allegiance to him; they have become friends of a sort. It is interesting to Boba, who hasn’t had many such connections in his life, but it is something he is finding he appreciates. It is nice not to be so alone... 

The walk to the correct hanger bay where he’s seen the Mandalorian twice now is quick as he uses the rat maze of back alleys and side streets to get there. It feels good to move with more ease than he has had in the last little bit; Fennec’s connections have added to his own and has made getting what he needs or wants much easier while still maintaining his identity a secret.

The door to the shop is wide open when he arrives, the sign above the entranceway is dim due to a covering of fine silt from the last dust storm keeping the area firmly in shadow. Boba sticks to the deep shadows for a moment just watching the entranceway before he moves across the distance to enter the mechanic shop, doesn’t bother alerting the mechanic to his presence. He keeps his steps silent as he moves through the hanger till he’s on the floor of her pit looking over a Razor Crest ship. It was in decent enough shape, its paint needed a touch-up but the orange is still striking against the muted silver of its hull. There was a need for heavy maintenance, not just a patch job but the bones of the ship were still good and solid. 

“Hey!” The mechanic's voice is sharp and nearing shrill as she catches sight of him in her hangar unwelcomed. “Who the fuck are you?” She snaps at him as she swings a dirty rag up over her shoulder so that both of her hands can fall to her hips. She’s tiny, dainty in a way he wasn’t used to seeing but there’s a fire in her eyes and steel in her spine. She’s worn but determined it’s all there in her face and Boba can see why the Mandalorian would like her, especially the way she had set about guarding the foundling during his first visit here. 

“A Trader,” He says simply with a wave of his hand, he’s gotten good at playing parts and pulling on masks that get him what he wants but her sharp eyes miss nothing and she regards him suspiciously with a long uhuh of doubtful acceptance. 

“Right, a trader; what can I offer to a trader?” She asks sarcastically as her hands flick at her sides while she heads back to one of her tool chests to try and find a part she needs or perhaps a hidden blaster; either wouldn’t surprise him. 

“Tell me where the Mandalorian was going, for a day's wage in credits.” He offers with an arch of his brow as he watches how she freezes at his works; rounding on him her eyes narrowed. “I mean neither him nor the little one harm; I simply wish to speak to him.” He does his best to make himself seem harmless; not the easiest thing for him to do. 

Boba is no longer as young as he had been; he’s developed into a broader frame than his father's and thicker with the muscle. Yet still, he knows his voice is sincere, he doesn’t wish harm to either one; for now, he simply wishes to know where he is. He knows to be patient as she eyes him while making up her mind to trust his words or not. 

“Didn’t say, I’m just the mechanic.” She informs him while her arms crossed before her chest, unimpressed and unintimidated by him as she eyes him. Her refusal doesn’t lessen her in his eyes, in fact, it raises her in his esteem; the fact that not even for a day’s wage would she bow impressed him especially here on Tatooine. “Now get out, I have work to do and no time to waste in dealing with some ‘Trader’.” The mechanic informs him cold and proficient as she stands there refusing to bow under his stare. 

Boba doesn't bother telling her, he’ll be back, there is no point in giving her warning he’d rather catch her off guard once more and hope for the best. Besides her loyalty to the other Mandalorian was impressive but it made getting what he wanted all the harder, well Boba always had enjoyed a good hunt and he had no doubt that the bounty hunter would not make it easy. 

\--

Boba couldn’t contain his glower as he stared down at the diminutive woman, with her wild mess of curls who glowered right back at him; her arms crossed in front of her chest once more as she stood like a sentry before him. She wouldn’t have ever made it past the first levels of training but she had a warrior's spirit that shone from her when pressed; Boba was finding himself weirdly charmed by her. It was a complication he didn’t really need but, he had also come to realize it was better to have the loyalty of those around you not just their fear. If he was ever going to make his plans come to fruition he would need more people in his corner even at the lowest levels. 

“Woman, you are trying my patience and I have been more than generous with my offers for the information.” Boba struggles to hold back the snarl he wants to let out in frustration, sure he could just bunk down here and wait for the Mandalorian to return. It would be the simplest option, easy to sit and wait; except the bounty hunter had gone out into the dune sea, on a speeder. Boba didn’t doubt that the other man could handle himself, would survive and make do on what little the desert offered but he had taken his Ik’aad with him which meant a longer trip than the last time he was here. The dune sea wasn’t the place to travel long distances with a child in tow, plus if it was for a bounty most didn’t travel that deep into the desert for risk of their lives. 

“And you're trying mine ‘Trader’ how many times do I gotta tell ya that I don’t know where he’s headed on his fool’s errand?” She sneers back at him, her hands flying up in the air in annoyance, but there’s a glint to her eyes that Boba would recognize anywhere. She was enjoying the battle of wills and had figured out that he wouldn’t kill her because whatever knowledge she had was more useful than her annoyance. It nearly had him growling with his frustration as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He’s just gearing up to offer his final incentive when a comm call sounds loud in the silence between them. 

He watches as the woman tenses and glances to her comm, looking back at him before sighing and answering the device. “Peli here.” She snaps into it while still eyeing him, even as he holds his silence. He watches as panic takes over her face as a child-like squeal comes from the comm, watches as her hand grips the device that little bit tighter. It takes all of Boba’s will power not to smirk as everything he wants falls into the palm of his hand. 

“Peli, I found Mos Pelgo.” The Mandalorian speaks, his voice is softer than what Boba would have expected, silken even with the modulation of the helmet. The sound of it had Boba going even stiller, standing up straight and listening intently. Mos Pelgo, now that was a name he hadn’t heard in quite some time. “I’m staying for longer, got roped into a job of taking down a Krayt Dragon.” It’s said on a sigh that’s only just caught by the comm the man is using and it has amusement making his lips twitch.

“Did you manage to find who you were looking for?” Peli asks trying to be discrete with the trader standing close by and able to hear every word, she didn’t doubt that if she were to try and move away from that he’d follow her so what was the point? 

“No, the Mandalorian I sought wears the armour but isn’t Mandalorian.” He says and Boba stiffens as a small sun of rage ignites inside him; so his armour had been found. His armour had been found and was being worn by some aruetii? How long has this person had it when he has been searching for so long? The thoughts make him want to snarl and get in his ship to hunt this aruetii down and take his armour back but the Krayt Dragon complicates things. The dragon means he wouldn’t be able to use his ship to get close and he was already at least two days behind the Mandalorian at worst more than those two days.

The rage he feels is nothing new; it is a rage he has felt many times in his life and it is candescent in his being, it had taken him many years to gain control of his rage, to harness it to his will and his benefit. Now it’s like a long-lost friend warming him from within, before he had no clue and wandered aimlessly in search of his armour but now in wanting to follow the other Mandalorian he has perhaps found what he sought for so long. 

Catching Peli’s eye, Boba can’t help the smirk that curls his lips before he bows to her and sweeps out of her pit, after all he had a long distance to travel if he was going to get to Mos Pelgo and get his armour back. 

“Hey!” 

“Hey get back here, you owe me payment for this information! No not you! Dank Farrak!” He ignores the sputtering words as the mechanic tries to respond to the Mandalorian and to call him back demanding her payment. The demand has him chuckling, no doubt that the next time he saw her she would demand it all over again.

\--

It took time to gather the provisions he would need along with a speeder bike that would be worth the wupiupi he spent on it, then as was his luck in the last little while right as he was getting ready to head out a sand storm rolled up onto Mos Eisley. Leaving him to wait till it cleared up before he could head out to track down the Mandalorian so he was stuck listening to the winds howl and sand hit against the side of his ship’s hull. Normally he could be patient, could hold his ground and wait for his prey when he’s bounty hunting but this was different. This was his armour and the Mandalorian.

“Never would have thought I’d see the day when Boba Fett wasn’t able to sit still.” Came the sharp tease from Fennec as she came down from Slave I cockpit, a smirk on her lips and her dark eyes glinting with mirth. Boba had never had a family beyond his buir, have never counted the Clones as Vode though they called each other such; but with Fennec, there was something there. A familiarity he hadn’t felt since Jango, an understanding beyond just the life debt she sore to him.

“You won’t see the likes again.” He snaps back as he turns his head to glare at her, making her laugh as she finds a seat, lifting the bottle of spochka up to take a deep swallow of the glowing blue alcohol.

“What’s your plan with the Mandalorian?” She asks him while stretching her legs out in the space offered to her, the space he wasn’t using to pace in. “You seem as focused on him as your missing armour,” Fennec adds before taking another swallow of the drink that could no longer affect her reflexes or hinder her skills. 

“Don’t have a plan currently, more curiosity than anything; I haven’t seen another Mandalorian in years.” Doesn’t bother telling her that the last Mandalorian he knew had been his own father, there wasn’t any point in going that far into the past. The sharpshooter gives a hum before letting her head tilt back as the wind picks up and the howl of it becomes nearly deafening even in the safety of the ship.

\--

The suns were setting when he could hear the distant whine of a speeder bike, getting off his own he hurried up the side of a dune to lift his binocs up. The sight of the Mandalorian heading in the direction of Mos Eisley has him gritting his teeth in frustration. He had hoped to meet up with him in Mos Pelgo and offer his help, the Tuskens would have vouched for him both to the Mandalorian and the Marshall who had his armour. Now it seemed that was off the table and he wouldn’t be able to approach the other hunter out here in the dune sea without bringing distrust down on his shoulders. Other than Tuskens, you never trusted a stranger you met while travelling the dune sea; especially not in the night.

Cursing to himself he stands there on the dune ridge watching the Mandalorian ride his speeder bike; as the man got closer Boba was careful in lowering his binocs not wanting to alert the Mandalorian of his presence. He saw no need in putting the man on high alert, he would find him in Mos Eisley once he was done with getting his armour back and dealing with this Marshall.

\--

Boba should have realized that there was no way the Mandalorian would have left their people armour with an aruetii, should have realized that the hunter would have struck up some kind of deal for it. The fact that he hadn’t realized, had been so focused on getting to Mos Pelgo that he missed it has him gritting his teeth as he slams into Slave I. Rage is singing in his veins like a sun about to go supernova, it has him snarling at Fennec to stay below as he storms up to the cockpit to get them off Tatooine.

In the time it had taken him to get to Mos Pelgo, only to turn around and double back as fast as his speeder could go he had lost the trail of the Mandalorian. Peli had refused to tell him anything once he had refused to pay her for ‘telling’ him where the Mandalorian had gone. Add to the fact that while the Marshall had been scared of him and had been more than willing to talk of the armour but what really got to him was the way the snivelling lor'birgaan couldn’t even put up a fight without the armour. It was made worse by the way the other man spoke of the other hunter, the way his voice turned soft and wistful; as if a Mandalorian would see anything in someone so unable to fight.

Snarling, Boba turns and sends his fist crashing into the steel panel closest to the door to his cockpit. His anger is a familiar comfort to him as he all but tosses himself into the pilot's seat, not yet of mind enough to set a course or even get them out of the atmosphere. He still can’t believe he hadn’t noticed his armour on the other man’s speeder bike, if only he had spotted it he wouldn’t be sitting here empty-handed yet again.

Boba could see exactly how he would have gone about getting his armour back; it would have been pointless to do a chase over the dunes, no much easier to just ambush the man or take a pot shot and crash the speeder. Then he would just have to be quick enough to get the other Mandalorian down, pin him down fast and hard. Ring his head in that shiny helm of his till he was disoriented. Knows that even with being daze the other hunter wouldn’t go down easy or quiet, not with the ik’aad to think about. Knows the other warrior would fight all the harder because he would think the child was in danger, gritting his teeth Boba can imagine the ferocity the other man would fight with. Wants to feel the power in that sleek form, wants to feel the muscles move against his own -- wants to hear him grunt and gasp as Boba’s fists hit their mark, bruise the skin beneath the armour. Wants to hear him cry out and gasp beneath him as Boba ties him up just enough that it would take him a while to get free. He wants to punish the other hunter for taking what is his, and punish him for catching the eye of someone so worthless of his attention; not that it was the other warrior's fault that others could see how attractive he is.

Boba wants to sink his teeth into his throat and hold him beneath his weight, wants to see the other man squirm in the sand under him. Wants to hear him beg or plead for Boba’s mercy and the safety of his child; wonders if the other man would be hard in his kute from the adrenaline and the way they would grind against each other in the power struggle. Wants to see the relief and the give of the other man when he realizes all Boba wants is his armour; Well the Armour first then he’d see about the silver Mandalorian at his mercy. Licking at his lips he stretching out in his seat as the imagines take on a whole different feel, the other Mandalorian would be beautiful in his struggle and his righteous fury in his desire to protect the child. It’s been so long since he’s had a good fight, Boba knows the other man would make it better than good.

His hands just slipping down to where his cock is just starting to take interest when he hears the door to the cockpit slide open, never mind he had ordered Fennec to stay in the hold. It has him clenching his hands on the armrests of his seat instead of where he wants them. 

“Are we waiting for something I don’t know about before finally getting off this dust ball,” Fennec snarks, as she moves slowly from the doorway to sit in the passenger seat while watching him. “Or are you still sulking?”

He can’t help the snarl he sends her way as his hands move to get them off Tatooine, shifting in his chair as he does so and taking care to ignore the devious knowing smirk on his sharpshooter’s lips.

“Reach out to your contacts to see if you hear any news about a Razor Crest landing anywhere, that’s what the Mandalorian flies.” He snaps at Fennec instead while he forces himself to concentrate on piloting Slave 1. Frustration and heat simmer in his blood he’ll hold onto the fantasy for later when he really could indulge in it, take his time instead of the quick rough moment that had just gotten interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments and Kudos make my day and I love seeing them <3 I really hope you enjoyed it and aren't too disappointed with the lack of smut.
> 
> Mando'a:
> 
> lor'birgaan - "meatbag" (Mandalorian equivalent of "cannon fodder", expendable soldiers)  
> aruetii - traitor, foreigner, outsider


	3. Getting Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was worth the wait, also please don't hate me!

The suite of rooms that Fennec had procured for them at the pleasure house were large and had a beautiful view of the planet they were on; not that he really cared about the view. Nor did he care about the decadence on display around him, including the two very pretty companions lounging against each other on the couch. Their skin decorated with shiny dust and nearly everything left on display for their guest’s pleasure. For all that Boba was used to seeing whores and companions alike bared for all to see, it wasn’t what made passion or desire flow hot and pounding in his blood.

They had come here for more important things than just ‘indulging in fantasy’ as the pleasure house advertises itself. Specifically they were here so Fennec could meet with some of her contacts and get some more information; information they needed beyond just his hunt for the silver Mandalorian and his Razor Crest. No he had more planned than just his interest in the other warrior, but getting his armor back was their first priority before the rest of his plans. So he had made himself comfortable in the rooms that were given to him and Fennec had pushed him to sample the pleasures that were on offer to him. No one here beyond Fennec knew who he really was; but he was still given preferred service just by being a friend of Fennec’s. 

The companions had been an unwelcome surprise; Boba had wanted to go out and see if he could find a fight, something to take the edge off his anger; he needed something he could sink his teeth into. Companions in these kinds of places… well it was best not to damage the merchandise, this wasn’t like Jabba’s palace where everyone was replaceable. No this kind of place puts time and effort into their courtesans, a refinement and art form cultivated to a fine edge for pleasure. 

So his anger simmered just beneath the surface with no outlet and yet the companions could offer him a different way to exorcise a particular need. Tilting his head back he lets out a sigh before stepping out of the chair he had been lounging in, turning his eyes to the two figures spread out over the silken bedspread. Both were quite fetching to look at, their colours complemented each other, the red of the Zeltron’s woman’s skin against the dark copper of the human male. The male was broad in the shoulders and sharply defined with muscled, a contrast to the slim refined beauty of the woman. 

Boba found it hard to care about their looks, he was more interested in what they could take and for how long they could take it for him. Rumbling at the idea he takes the last swallow of the spiced alcohol that Fennec had managed to find for him it was not tihaar but it was quite nice. 

“Red to stop, yellow to pause, green for good.” He says firmly, watching them as they glance to one another before nodding their heads in understanding. “Good, you will call me Sir; you’ll hurt, you’ll be sore but you’ll thank me for it.” Boba adds with a smirk as he catches the flicker of something that's a cross between fear and excitement in their eyes. 

“Yes Sir.” The answer came in stereo as the two get off the couch to stand before him, their heads tilting down subtly more proof of their schooling no doubt. After all the more customers you could serve and please the more money you’d make, so it worked to their best interest to be schooled in all forms of pleasure. Make themselves enjoy it if they have too; but Boba didn’t think he’d have such a problem with these two. 

Boba leaves them there, standing near the slightly padded caf table before going to look for what he would need; he had no issue in improvising what he wanted but proper instruments were preferred. Though in a place like this there should be a whole closet of all manner of things to play with, and indeed there was; a walk in one at that. Setting the empty glass down on a nearby side table, Boba tosses the double doors wide as he pursues everything on offer to him, he didn’t need a fancy involved scene tonight, no he needed something a little more rough around the edges. The thought had a smirk tugging at his lips, so he gathers up a few full lengths of a rougher blend of rope, along with a few floggers and crops. 

Walking out of the closet he leaves the doors wide open, why not let the idea of more tease them, after all most who started these games with pleasure house companions were more into it for the rush of excitement and not true ability. Boba on the other hand had quite the extensive knowledge in how to break someone apart in the most pleasurable of ways only to put them back together and leave them wanting more. It was a satisfying ability, one he hasn’t had the time to indulge in till now. 

Humming to himself he glances over the two standing still as stone and waiting for him, it barely takes him four strides to get to the waiting companions. Boba gives them a moment to look at what he’d chosen. 

“Colours?” He demands with an arch of a brow as he watches the two companions look over the tools he carried. Boba knows that he’s not really giving them a choice in what he has planned but one last chance for them to change their minds. 

“Green.” Once more the response comes nearly at the same time, these two probably have worked together multiple times for this type of synchrony. Nodding his head in acceptance, he places the crops, floggers and the single switch he had chosen onto the couch before grabbing the first length of rope. He has no need of their names, doesn’t bother in asking for them as he simply unravels the rope and starts binding the woman how he wished to have her bound. 

The rope looks nearly stark white against her ruby skin, as he binds her arms in front of her chest; the rope criss-crosses and forms diamonds from her wrists to her upper arms. It’s pleasant to fall into the rhythm of binding a body to his will, he takes his time with it till she’s kneeling in front of the cafe table facing it, calves bound to her thighs under her. 

“Good girl,” He praises absently before checking that she was as comfortable as she could be with the position and the ropes. Her quiet ‘yes sir’ pleases him before he moves onto her companion. Humming as he looked the man over, the companion was broader in the shoulders than what he thought his shiny mando would be, more heavily muscled as well. Reaching out he gathers the other lengths of rope to start his work, normally he wouldn’t put two playthings in the same bindings but tonight wasn’t about them, no this was for his own enjoyment and pleasure. So Boba makes quick work of binding the man up, easing him down into the same position as the woman beside him. Both kneeling in a familiar meditation pose with their knees spread and calves bound to their thighs underneath them, their backs on display while their arms were bound and gently resting on the padded caf table that Boba knew was the perfect height for all sorts of things. 

“Perfect,” He praises as he reaches out and cards his fingers through their hair; pleasure a distant hum in him as they relax into the position and their submission so easily. “Let yourself float now.” 

Something was off but Boba wasn’t sure what was off, it set an itch between his shoulder blades that he couldn’t roll out struggling to settle into the right mindset for such play. It made him pull away and take a step back, setting in to look them over, he glanced at the toys laid out on the bed trying to find the spark of the scene from just moments before. He nearly wants to growl with the frustration that laces through him. 

Disappointment, not in the companions, they had dropped so beautifully; so willingly that it should have been a pleasure and yet it gave him nothing. No satisfaction, no delight, no calm. He was still unsettled, mind rolling with plan after plan of what comes next, his fascination and need to get his armour back from the Mandalorian a complication. An unexpected hunt that he was helpless but to give chase in, beyond just his armour he wanted more than just the last bit of his father he still had. 

His realization that he has no desire to continue the scene has him looking at the companions, what to do? They had sunk down so willingly to pull them up now would be at best just a disappointment to them, at worst an insult to the pleasure house they were staying at. Humming he contemplates his options, before moving silently to pour himself a new glass of the spiced alcohol and once more taking a seat in his chair; he’ll let them sink and float a bit just as they are. Taking a sip of the liquor he hums as the spice hit’s his tongue fragrant and heavy but still with a bite, a bite he has missed, eyes drifting shut as he savours the taste of it. 

The sound of the door to the rooms has him turning his attention to Fennec as she strides in, her eyes taking in the scene before her, a smirk curving her lips and Boba wishes he knew her more than his current ability. He could tell that something was amusing to the sharp shooter, but wasn’t quite proficient enough in reading her face yet to narrow it down further. So he chooses not to question it as she strides further into the room, a pad held at her side, pleasure and satisfaction fully on display in her stance. 

“Hate to interrupt your play time,” She teases as she hands him the pad and a data stick subtly. “Will they be negatively affected if I pull them out?” Fennec questions seriously as she motions to the still and quiet companions. 

“No they have only been down for a few moments; though the woman has been tied for probably close to 40 minutes.” He says with a curl of his lips, his word making Fennec laugh as she heads over to the kneeling companions. 

“Got it.” Fennec says as she carefully pulls the two submissives up from their float before starting to carefully untie the woman, shushing her gently and stroking her hair as she does so. Boba watches just a little distractedly before letting the pad pull his attention back to the information the sharp shooter had gotten them. He takes another sip of his drink before setting the glass aside to fully focus on what was given to him, the sounds of Fennec dealing with the companions, then the door opening and closing before locking distant till he’s finishing up his reading to find Fennec lounging on the couch and drinking her own drink watching him. 

“This is more than promising, more than I was expecting.” He says slowly as he taps the pad before settling it on his thigh before reaching for his drink once more. He tosses back the last swallow as he watches his right hand who was sitting across from him, eyes dark and curious. Boba had told her the bare minimum of his plan, what he wanted, what he was determined to get knew that Fennec was drawn to it because of what it would give her. Knew exactly how tired she was of being hunted, of being prey more than ready to return to being the hunter. 

“I thought it would be, though perhaps a little too good to be true?” She hesitates to say, head tilting to the side as she watches him a brow arching obviously wanting more information on his plan. 

“Perhaps,” Boba agreed with a nod of his head, a smirk pulling at his lips as he gave a hum. “How do you feel about hunting out the truth?” He wonders already knowing the answer as her smirk stretches into a wide delighted smile. 

“Gladly, after all we paid for truthful intel we better get what we paid for.” 

“Or those who try to fool us will suffer the consequences.” 

“Indeed.” 

\---

Fennec watches Boba prowl around the fighting ring, muscles flexing under scarred skin, but the skin was supple and flexible, the telltale signs of talented healers. He moved with a predator's grace as he took down fighter after fighter in the pit, Boba definitely lived up to his legend from what she has seen both in planning, strategy and fighting. He was competent and honed in his desires, something she hadn’t been expecting, patient in his planning and calm in his execution of said plan. The only time she had seen him lose his cool so far was during the sandstorm on Tatooine when he had planned to go after the silver Mandalorian.

When Boba had revived her, made sure that she was as healthy as he could the only thing he had originally asked of her was information on the Mandalorian and if she in her travels of the planet had seen his armor. What started off as gratitude and a life debt changed quickly to loyalty and curiosity when the other man showed more skill and knowledge than just an ability to kill. After the fall of the Hutt’s on Tatooine, Bib Fortuna had taken Jabba’s palace as ruler while he had an idea on how to run things his inability to do anything more than pleasure himself left much to be desired. While inefficient in his rule Bib was still ruthless in his desire to keep the power he had gathered to himself, yet despite all that Boba had managed to gather himself a small loyal following in the cities of the desert planet on top of a web of contacts that spreads out and over laps her own such web. 

It was hard not to be impressed with the man's skills, in their hunt for the man's armour while traveling the planet loyalty became friendship; a friendship Fennec was sure was Boba’s first true friendship in years. He was hesitant to trust and yet when he did it was with a tenacity and strength that amazed her. At his heart Boba was a man of honor for all that he made no move to hide his past as a hunter for hire as long as you could afford his services. 

All of that led them to here, the shiny mando that had Boba’s head so turned around somewhere in space with them hunting for a sign, at first she had thought the Mando would cause them nothing but trouble. To a degree she had been right, considering the time lost on that useless trip to Mos Pelgo, but then again for all his anger in realizing his Mando had his armour; Boba still carried an air of some sort of satisfaction about him. By the time her friend and boss had made it back to Slave I, the Razor Crest, the Mando were gone who knew where and they had other matters to take care of. Though they were lucky in the sense that their web of contacts were more than willing to keep them in the loop when told they were hunting a certain ship so it was only a matter of time before they would have some news on that front. 

So while it was a waiting game for news on the Mando they were busy gathering up intel for Boba’s plans, building stronger webs of contacts and informants. What was even more amusing was the way Boba gathered people loyal to him easily, turning them against their current loyalties and to him in a manner that was ironclad. Even currently as he beats his frustration out on trained gladiators he was pulling them into his sway. Fennec found herself more than a little impressed by the skill, it had been sometime since she had seen anyone do such a thing with ease. 

When she had entered their rooms that first night at the pleasure house she had been surprised to find Boba sitting calmly with the two companions she had sent him just tied up facing away. She had been sure that she would find him buried to the hilt in one of them as he worked out his frustrations in not getting his shiny prize along with this armour. Instead they had easily sent the companions, who had been more than a little disappointed like the man had said, away so they could talk business. Since that first night they had focused on business and planning Boba’s take over, his sight focused on Hutt space starting with Tatooine. 

When not sequestered away in their suit of rooms at the pleasure house they were here at the fighting pits. No that the fighting pits seemed to alleviate Boba’s frustration, more just soothe it for a time. Something about this inability to sate a desire, the hyper focused near predatory attention was familiar to her and yet she couldn’t put a finger on it. So for now Fennec puts it to the back of her mind; she’ll contemplate it later when she has more time. 

Glancing up as the sound of a body hits the barely cushioned mats, she watches as the scarred man takes on four opponents with a pleased smirk on his lips and a rough rumble of a laugh. Smirking in amusement she goes back to contacting her informants she trusted, as much as she trusts anyone beyond Boba these days, not to give her compromised intel. There were a few informants on Navarro she had held off contacting, not sure if the Mando would risk a third return to the planet after seemingly tangling with a Moff of all people. But the more rumors she collected in getting information the more substantial the thought became. 

She’s just finishing up the last of her communications when a familiar body drops down beside her, Fennec takes a moment to put her com away before turning her attention to Boba. He’s sweat damp and breathing heavily but has a pleased and satisfied air about him that has her smirking, she knows it won’t last; knows by the time they make it back to the pleasure house tension would have his shoulders tight and stiff once more. 

“Good for now?” 

“For now.” Boba confirms as he leans back on his hands putting his wide muscular chest on display, the skin tight long sleeved shirt he wore hiding nothing of his powerful figure. He’s not her type by a long shot but she can definitely see the appeal, knows how competent the man was in anything he set out to do. She had some questions, curiosities she hoped her friend would be willing to answer but till they were in the privacy of their rooms she’ll keep to business.

“Got someone on Navarro, they work mainly for the guild but they are familiar with the crest.” Fennec starts chuckling under her breath as Boba goes still at her side, his eyes turning to her as sharp as a blaster bolt to the gut as he focuses completely on her. “They’ll inform us if the Crest lands on Navarro and put a tracker on it for us if we can’t be there to catch the Mando.” 

“Good.” The words are succinct and to the point as he moves to stand up once more, rolling his shoulders before cracking his neck with two sharp movements. “Let’s head back.” 

“Nodding her head she stands with a cursory look around to make sure she gathered everything before moving to walk at Boba’s side, the walk was done in silence as they moved through the still crowded streets to the pleasure house. They were left to their own devices as they headed up to their rooms, and once in the spacious place Fennec made sure to set up the disrupter that was a habit to have on when they were in the rooms. 

She watches as Boba gives his shoulders a firmer stretch his arms lifting over his head with a groan, Fennec knows she only has him for a few moments before he would head to his room to shower and whatever else he’d do for the night while she went down to the gambling rooms for her own entertainment. 

“I’m curious,” She starts as she moves to sit on the arm of a chair watching as Boba pours himself a bit of the spiced liquor he was fond of, “You haven’t sought out the companions from our first night though you seemed interested and I’ve heard rumors about a night at Jabba’s palace with a certain captured princess....” Fennec edges, head tilting to the side, watching as instead of sipping at the liquor the other man just tosses it back with a glance her way before pouring himself another measure. 

“I don’t pay for sex and I don’t fuck anyone who can’t willingly give consent.” Boba says shortly as he turns his full attention to her, his face placid as he waits her out. Again Fennec feels like she’s missing something, missing a piece of the puzzle to make everything clear instead she nods her head slowly. 

“So the companions were?” Fennec knows she’s pushing it but she also knows that for all that she’s annoying her friend she has more leeway than most; she can’t stop the smirk that curves her lips at the soft scoff that falls from the other warrior.

“An attempt to ease a frustration that didn’t work.” He says with a tilt of his head before he lets out a sigh. “I was in the middle of figuring out how to send them away without upsetting our hosts and their company.”

“So it was good timing on my part then.” Fennec says, deciding to let the conversation come to an end, smiling now she nods her head to her friend before moving to where her own bedroom’s door was. “Well, I’ll be heading down to the gambling rooms, I’ll see you in the morning Boba.” 

“Indeed, see you in the morning Fennec.” Boba says with a shake of his head before heading to his own rooms, the door shutting quietly behind him. Fennec pauses before her own door watching her friends, she wonders if there’s a possibility in the Mando being his kindred before dismissing it. Shrugging, she lets the door slide shut behind her; stripping out of her clothes as she moves to change into a more ‘comfortable’ outfit for the evening she had planned. 

\---

Boba sighs as the door to his bedroom slides shut behind him, absently he activates the lock before he tosses back his second glass of the spiced liquor. Normally he’d like to savour it but that itch between his shoulders is already back and more persistent than before, it’s driving him mad. Nothing he’s done has helped with his dissatisfaction or frustration beyond the surface level, he’s fought till near collapse in the fighting pits and even that barely scratches the itch. Walking further into the room, Boba puts his glass down on the dresser before heading to the fresher. 

Growling low in his throat, he strips off his long sleeved top off, a shiver rolling down his spine as the cooler air of the room hits his sweat damp skin. Tossing the shirt into the laundry shoot, quickly followed by his pants he takes in a breath as he stands in the washroom bare of any type of armour. Turning his attention to the floor length mirror he stares at his body, heavily corded with muscles the scars left over from his time in the Sarlacc pit hidden or minimized by the extensive black-work tattoos he covered his skin with. The geometric patterns enhanced the shape of his muscles hard won after dealing with the Sarlacc, the solid black-work stood out against the tan of his skin; pleasing to the eye as far as Boba was concerned. He had kept as far away from the more traditional Mandalorian Tattoos that his father had preferred and adorned himself with.

Boba let’s his hands caress over his skin, feeling the texture differences from normal flesh to scarred, humming as a nail catches on a nipple making it peak harder in the cool air. Letting his hands drop he turns towards the shower choosing to indulge himself in use of the water shower that was available. Stepping under the spray of the hot water, Boba rolls his shoulder as the spray hits his back perfectly. He’s quick in washing the fight sweat off his skin with a sigh of pleasure tilting his head back letting the water douse him with warmth while his hands once more slides over his own skin. The soap makes the glide of his callous rough hands that much easier over his scarred flesh.

Groaning softly he tugs at his nipples while letting his mind wander absently over past lovers but finds no pleasure in the memories, Boba finds his thoughts once more cycling back to the Mandalorian that has caught his attention. He doesn’t have much to fuel the fantasy, the soft timber of his voice, a glimpse of pale tan wrist, the easy roll of his hips as he walked over the sands of Tatooine. The simple idea of having the other man at his mercy, has heat pooling low in his gut and his cock thickening. 

Shaking his head he turns under the spray of hot water, as his hands continue to caress his own skin as the hot water hit’s his chest. Boba let’s the water hit his face as he uses the edge of his nails to scratch at his nipples, a shudder that rolls down his spine at the attention. Shifting in the shower stall, he moves to lean back against the glass of the stall, the sharp chill of it against his spine has him hissing out a breath even as he wraps a hand around his turgid length. Humming in pleasure at the touch of his hand, he lets his fantasy take over as he grips the base of his cock. His other hand scrapes his nails over the skin of his thigh, the way the dulled nerves under scarred and tattooed skin makes pleasure skitter up his spine. 

Boba wonder’s how his Mandalorian would touch him; would he hesitate in reaching out and touching his skin or would he reach out and confidently touch him hands hot and sure on his thighs? Would he be nervous sitting there on his knees before watching Boba stroke his cock or would he be more than willing to lean in and take the head into his mouth? 

Panting lightly, he strokes his thumb along the top length of his cock before teasing the edge of the head before swiping his callous rough thumb over the sensitive glands. His fingers skitter over a dead patch of nerves along the apex of his thigh as his free hand migrates to his balls, the sudden shift from touch, to nothing and then back to sensation has him gasping. Tossing his head back, he winces as the back of his head thuds loudly against the glass of the shower as he starts to slowly stroke his length while his other hand teases his balls. 

Fuck what he wouldn’t do to have his mandalorian before him on his knee’s mouth open, to feel that wet hot suction on his cock. Sucking in a breath he quickens the pace on his cock, tightening the grip he had around his cock as he stroked his length from root to tip. The shower was still steaming around him, the water hitting his legs and chest in warmth as he imagined the man kneeling soaked before him, water streaming down his face as he licked at the head of Boba’s cock like he was desperate for a taste. 

He’s gasping for breath as he continues to stroke himself off, his other hand tugging and teasing at his balls as he gives his hand a twist around the head of his cock. Snarling he grits his teeth as he lets the image of his shiny prize with his hands on the back of his thighs as he looks up at Boba. 

Would his mouth be thin or just that right side of plush that he always seemed to be drawn to? Would he mouth at the head of Boba’s cock and tease the slit just the way he liked or would Boba get the pleasure of training the other man on how to please him. 

The thought that he might need to train the man sends pleasure racing through him, he’s never had a plaything that he had the delight in training just for him. Swallowing thickly he can’t help the groan that falls from him as his orgasm rips through him as he wrings the last of his pleasure out himself. Gasping as he shudders through the pleasure, as his hands fall from his cock and balls to hang at his side as he moves to catch his breath. 

Boba really hopes he finds the shiny mando soon, he’s tired of being dissatisfied and yet to a degree he’s enjoying the chase still. Sighing he shifts so he’s standing back under the hot spray from the shower head, he lets the water douse him once more rinsing off the last of the soap on his body and getting rid of the evidence of his pleasure. He’s slow to leave the steamed up bathroom, his muscles loose and languid that Boba know’s won’t last but for now he’s relaxed and all but purring with it. 

He drags himself across the bedroom, the cooler air caressing his steaming skin before collapsing boneless into the luxurious bed with a sigh. He can’t help but nuzzling his face into the silken pillow case as his body seems to finally realize how exhausted he is from the hours of fighting let alone his current problem with insomnia. 

\---

Boba had lost track of how long they had been planet side and staying at the pleasure house till Fennec had gotten the news from her contact that the Razor Crest had barely managed to land on Navarro. They had been too far away, nearly into the Core to catch up with the Mandalorian, it had made him snarl in displeasure. Fennec had managed to perceive his needs before he could speak them and informed him that she had ordered her informant to sneak a tracker onboard the Crest for them. 

He couldn’t help the way pleasure sat warm in his core as he watches hyperspace’s blur of stars as they make their way back towards the outer rim. Boba leans back in his pilot's chair, for now content that it wouldn’t be too much longer till he was able to get what he wanted; with the tracker in place it made his hunt all that easier. 

Now he just had to be patient and wait; he was more than patient, it was the one thing in his life that was honed into him early. First at his fathers side, then in prison when he wasn’t even close to being near his majority. It wouldn’t matter if it was hours or weeks, eventually his patience would win him what he sought. 

Soon, soon he’d have his armour and his prize in his possession; he could feel it with the way that ever present frustration that sat between his shoulders was starting to ease the closer they got to where the tracker was leading them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading <3, comments and kudos are amazing and make my day!
> 
> I promise Boba get's his man in Chapter 4 and from here the chapters will be increasing in length because I am incapable of writing anything without plot apparently.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, any comments and kudos make my day  
> <3 Rabbit


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